Monday, 28 December 2009

Futiletide

Yuletide gaping void of lack,
Causes recollecting back.
Imagination, rampage wild,
Transformed into, wretched child.
Tis season jolly, bright and gay,
But rotten, forgery, and cliche.

Seeking Ghosts, threads entwined,
Hidden in corners, of the mind.

Intense stillness hangs around,
Suspending body, quiet sound,
Stinging cold, yet inside warm,
Want tomorrow, yet feeling torn,
For arrival fast, is such a boon,
Yet means all is dead, far too soon.


Bombarded with, seasonal finesse,
Overwhelm draining, to excess.
Suffocating spend, gorging glee,
Leaves me polar, numb, empty.

Cheer tarnished, excitement dent,
Expectation greater, than event.
Sudden dawning, sharp like knife,
Innocence lost: lachrymose life.

Despite all efforts, to re-create.
Gasping for air, reluctant, too late,
Like a drowning soul, struggling for breath,
We cling to memories & fade to death.

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